Phantom Traveler
by Dede42
Summary: Something is causing planes to crash and the Winchesters are called upon by a friend to help out and solve the problem. But can Sam, Liz, and Dean stop an entity that's been causing planes to crash for centuries?
1. Chapter 1: NO SURVIVORS

Supernatural: Phantom Traveler

A/N: Hello! I know that it's been a while since I last updated, but I have been busy with both school and work, plus there are times when I can't get the stupid internet to work either. Sigh, such is life. Enough about that, on with the story!

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE: "NO SURVIVORS"**

UNITED BRITANNIA AIRLINES

AIRPORT…

George Phelps didn't like flying. Never had, and yet, here he was, sitting in the middle of an airport, about to board a plane, of all things. He must be crazy, maybe even suicidal.

Eventually, his gaze was drawn to a sign for the restrooms, so, wiping his hands nervously on his pants, he stood and headed inside. The moment he reached the sink, he was turning it on, dipping his hands under the cold water, splashing it over his face and breathing hard. A man stepped out of a stall and approached the sink to wash his hands.

"Nervous flyer?" he asked George, noticing his pale face.

George nervously chuckled. "It's that obvious, huh?"

"You know, what are the odds of dyin' in a plane crash?" the man asked, bemused. "I mean, what… twenty thousand to one?" He smiled in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring, and left.

"Wow. That's, uh, really reassuring. Thank you," George called after him sarcastically, and he continued to splash water on his face. While he was doing so, a black mist came out of the air vent in the bathroom with an eerie whispering sound; it swirled around George, and his attention, and entered his body through his eyes before he could even react. And then, there was nothing.

* * *

The passengers were busy boarding the plane, and the pilot, Chuck Lambert, turned to talk to one of the flight attendants, Amanda Walker. "Amanda, how are you today?" he asked.

"I'm doing just fine, Chuck.," Amanda answered and turned when a passenger came aboard and handed over his ticket. "Welcome aboard. 15C, towards the back of the plane, on the right." The man nodded and walked to his seat. The next passenger came aboard and began walking to his seat. "Have a nice flight, sir," she called after him, and he turned to face her. Amanda gasped; his eyes were coal-black, but that was impossible, right?

"Oh, I'm countin' on it," 'George' assured her with a confident grin, and he walked to his seat. Amanda was shocked and confused by what she'd seen, starting when another passenger came on the plane.

"Uh, 11F… that's the middle of the plane, on…" Amanda stammered, and the woman walked away before she could finish "the left."

* * *

Almost an hour later, the plane was in the air and the flight was going smoothly. Normal-looking 'George' calmly turned to speak to a female passenger next to him. "Excuse me. Do you know how long we've been up?" he asked politely.

The woman checked her watch. "Oh, uh, about forty minutes."

"Wow. Time really does fly, huh?" 'George' joked and the woman nodded. He then got up and said, "Excuse me. I've got to stretch my legs."

"Okay," said the woman and she stood up so he could get through; he walked to the back of the plane. Another passenger, Max Jaffey, turned to see what he was doing, and he became worried when 'George' walked to the emergency exit and grabbed the handle.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Max asked.

Keeping a grip on the handle, 'George' turned to Max, and his eyes were completely black. Max was shocked, and then 'George' opened the emergency exit; he and the door flew out of the plane, which began to crash at an uncontrollable speed. Everybody was frantic and screaming as papers and other objects were flying everywhere. Amanda was struggling to get to a seat as the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling; finally getting into a seat, she and the passengers grabbed the masks and put them over their mouths as the plane continued to dive towards the ground, despite the best efforts of both Chuck and his co-pilot, who were also wearing their masks.

* * *

Both Dean and Liz were fast asleep on the same bed, when the door to the room creaked as Sam opened it. Dean, one hand under his pillow, opened his eyes slightly; the door slammed shut, and both he and Liz woke up, startled.

Sam smirked at them, carrying coffee and donuts. "Mornin'."

"What time is it?" Dean asked sleepily and Liz just yawned, not fully awake yet.

"It's about 5:45," Sam informed them.

"In the morning?" Dean asked, surprised that Sam was up so early, while Liz just groaned and flopped back into the bed, covering her face with a pillow.

Sam nodded. "Yep."

"Where does the day go?" Dean wondered, sitting up in the bed and got a protesting grunt from Liz when he swiped her pillow. "Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked Sam.

Sam nodded, holding up the bag of doughnuts. "Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours."

"Liar," said Dean seriously. "'Cause I was up at three, and you were watchin' the George Foreman infomercial."

"Hey, what can I say?" Sam protested. "It's riveting TV."

Liz sighed, sitting up again. "Sam…"

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" Dean asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "A little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is," said both Dean and Liz.

Sam sighed. "Look, I appreciate your concern —" he began.

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you," Dean interrupted. "It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." And sighed when Sam shrugged. "Seriously, are you still havin' nightmares about Jess?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted and sat down on the bed across from Dean and Liz, and handed them both a cup of coffee. "But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job man, it gets to you."

"Well, you can't let it," Dean stated. "You can't bring it home like that."

"So, what? All this it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked, skeptical as Dean shook his head and Liz sighed, rolling her eyes skyward. "Never? You're never afraid?"

"Unlike my dumb twin," said Liz, whacking the back of Dean's head, "we all get afraid, Sam, but we don't let it control us."

Dean winced at the whack but he couldn't help boasting just a little. "No, not really." Sam raised his eyebrows, reached under Dean's pillow, and pulled out a knife, which Dean promptly took from him. "That's not fear. That is precaution," he added seriously.

"All right, whatever," Sam sighed, and Liz honestly thought she'd never seen the kid look this bad. "I'm too tired to argue."

"And that's why you should get more sleep, Sam," she told him softly, "of even just talk about it —"

Just then, Dean's cell phone rang, and he answered it. "Hello?"

_`"Dean, it's Jerry Panowski,"`_ said the man on the phone._ `"You, your sister, and your dad helped me out a couple years back."`_

"Oh, right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing," Dean said, remembering the trouble with that particular poltergeist. "It's not back, is it?" he asked.

_`"No, no. Thank God, no,"`_ Jerry assured him, laughing slightly._ `"But it's something else, and, well, I think it could be a lot worse."` _

Now he was worried. "What is it?" Dean asked, getting the attention of both Sam and Liz.

_`"Can we talk in person__?"`_ Jerry asked hopefully.

* * *

Several airplanes were being constructed around the building where Jerry worked, and the thin, balding man was talking with Sam, Liz, and Dean as they walked to his office. "Thanks for makin' the trip so quick," he said gratefully. "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around." He looked at Sam. "Dean, Liz, and your dad really helped me out."

"Yeah, he told me," Sam said. "It was a poltergeist?"

A passing employee overheard them. "'Poltergeist'? Man, I loved that movie!"

"Hey, nobody's talkin' to you. Keep walkin'," Jerry snapped and then looked back at Sam. "Damn right, it was a poltergeist practically tore our house apart," Jerry complained and then looked at Dean and Liz. "I'll tell you somethin' if it wasn't for you two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." He then looked back at Sam. "Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?" he asked.

Sam reluctantly nodded. "Yeah, I was. I'm… takin' some time off."

Jerry nodded not pressing for details as it wasn't his business. "Well, he was real proud of you," he commented. "I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

"He did?" Sam asked, surprised, and both Dean and Liz flushed slightly when he shot them a look.

"Yeah, you bet he did," said Jerry proudly, missing the death glares. "Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?" he asked.

"He's, um… he's wrapped up in a job right now," Dean stammered.

"Well, we're missin' the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry remarked, and they all laughed.

"No, not by a long shot," Sam admitted quietly. Truthfully, he had always felt like he'd had to measure up to John and always came up wanting. It didn't help that he had taken that two-year hiatus to try and be normal.

Jerry didn't seem to hear what Sam said as he led them into his office. "I've got somethin' I want you guys to hear," he told them, voice going serious.

He sat down at his desk and placed a CD into a player. "I listened to this. Well, it sounded like it was up your alley," he explained. "Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia Flight 2485. It was one of ours." And he played the CD; at first, there was a lot of static and indistinct talking as the plane began to descend. Moments later, there was the sound of a demonic hiss, and the CD ended. Sam. Liz, and Dean exchanged confused looks, unsure of what that last bit was exactly only that it definitely wasn't human.

"Took off from here crashed about two hundred miles south," Jerry continued. "Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

Jerry shook his head, obvious concern on his face. "No, I don't."

Sam nodded, already making a mental of list of what they would need. "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, a list of survivors…"

"Right. And any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked.

"If we can, then we might find a clue as to what did this," Liz added.

"The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage, fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse," Jerry explained. "No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean shrugged. "No problem."

* * *

Sam and Liz were waiting by the car for Dean, who came out of a Copy-Jack store and held the door open for a lady before joining them.

"You've been in there forever," Sam complained.

Dean held up three fake IDs. "You can't rush perfection," he proclaimed and Liz rolled her eyes.

"You were flirting with someone in there, weren't you?" she asked and Dean shot her an annoyed look.

Sam read them and frowned. "Homeland Security? That's pretty illegal, even for us," he remarked.

"Yeah, well, it's somethin' new, you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times," said Dean lightly as they got in the car. "All right, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely an EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam confirmed.

"And we were able to clean it up enough to hear what it was saying," Liz added, leaning over the back of their seats.

Dean nodded. "Yeah?"

"Listen," Sam said, and he played the audio on his laptop. After a moment, there was the distinct sound of something saying, _`"No survivors."`_

""No survivors"?" Dean repeated, confused. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

Sam shrugged. "Got me."

"So, what are you thinkin'? A haunted flight?"

Sam sighed and shrugged again. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."

Dean nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Or, remember Flight 401?" Sam asked.

Dean and Liz both grimaced, recalling the incident on the news. "Right the one that crashed, then the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, and then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights."

Sam nodded. "Right."

"Yep," Dean agreed.

"Maybe we've got a similar deal," Sam remarked.

"Boy, I _really_ hope this isn't one of those," Liz groaned.

Dean held up the list of survivors. "All right, so, survivors which one do you wanna talk to first?" he asked.

Sam pointed to a name. "Third on the list, named Jaffey."

"Why him?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, he's from around here," Sam answered. "And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did."

Dean and Liz both gave him inquiring looks. "What makes you say that?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, I spoke to his mother, and she told me where to find him."

* * *

After a quick chat with the reception desk at the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital, Dean, Liz, and Sam were outside talking to Max, who was walking with a limp and leaning on a cane.

"I don't understand," he said after seeing the fake ids. "I already spoke with Homeland Security."

"Right. Some new information has come up," Dean said. "So if you could just answer a couple questions…"

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual?" Sam asked.

"Like what?" Max asked.

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe… voices?" Dean suggested.

"Or any unusual smells that you normally wouldn't detect on an airplane?" Liz added.

Max shook his head, not recalling anything like that. "No, nothing."

"Hmm. Mr. Joffey…" Dean began.

"Jaffey," Max interrupted.

Dean nodded. "Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" he asked, and Max nodded. "Can I ask why?"

Max sighed. "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."

"Uh-huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asked, skeptical.

"I-I don't wanna talk about this anymore," Max stammered.

Dean wasn't about to let up, for he was sure that they were on to something now. "See, I think maybe you did see somethin' up there. We need to know what."

"No. No, I was delusional, seeing things," Max insisted.

Dean looked to Liz and Sam. "He was seeing things," he repeated, and Sam shrugged while Liz sighed.

Sam turned his attention to Max. "It's okay," he said reassuringly. "Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please."

Max wasn't sure, but after a moment he finally told them, stammering badly. "There was… this… man. And, uh, he had these… eyes these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him — or I thought I saw him…"

"What?" Dean asked.

"He opened the emergency exit," Max answered, gulping. "But that's… that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's somethin' like two tons of pressure on that door."

"This man did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly?" Sam asked, positive that they were getting somewhere now. "It wouldn't look something like a mirage?"

"What are you, nuts?" Max asked, surprised. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

Startled by this statement, Dean, Liz, and Sam all exchanged a look. A passenger?

* * *

Dean, Liz, and Sam pulled up outside a nice-looking house.

"Here we are George Phelps, seat 20C," Sam said, peering through the window.

"Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are," Dean said as they got out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or somethin', no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Yeah, you would have to be like Superman or something," Liz added, agreeing with Dean.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "But maybe this guy, George, was somethin' else creature maybe, in human form?" he suggested.

Dean gestured to the house. "That look like a creature's lair to you?" he asked, and with a sigh they all went up to the front door.

* * *

Sam, Liz, and Dean were talking to George's wife, and Sam picked up a photo of George.

"This is your late husband?" he asked.

Mrs. Phelps nodded sadly. "Yes, that was my George."

"And you said he was a… dentist?" Dean asked.

Mrs. Phelps nodded again, sniffing. "Mm-hmm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly?" she asked them, and they shook their heads as this was new to them. "For him to go like that…" She trailed off, about to cry.

"How long were you married?" Liz asked.

She smiled. "Thirteen years."

Sam nodded. "In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"

Mrs. Phelps thought for a moment before she answered. "Well… uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean."

And Dean, Liz, and Sam exchanged a glance. Clearly a dead end.

* * *

Minutes later, Dean, Liz, and Sam were walking back to the car.

"I mean, it goes without saying," Sam said, confused and frustrated. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, a middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified," Dean agreed. "You know, what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."

"Starting to look like our only option," Liz agreed, wondering if their fake IDs would be good enough to gain access to the warehouse. "'Cause I don't see any other leads before us to use right now."

"Okay," said Sam, reluctantly agreeing with his older siblings. "But if we're gonna go that route, we better look the part."

* * *

A/N: Ooh, now what could Sam be up to? R&R everyone!


	2. Chapter 2: A Possible Connection

Supernatural: Phantom Traveler

A/N: Sorry, I was hoping to get a least one review before updating again, but I'm updating anyway; let's see how Dean handles Sam's idea. Also, please review so I know just how much everyone likes my work and how I'm doing.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO: LOOKING THE PART**

Dean and Sam exited a men's dress suit shop, dressed in black business suits, and Liz crossed the street to join them, dressed similarly.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean complained, upset that he was wearing a monkey suit of all things.

"No, you don't," Sam said, smirking. "You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance." Liz burst out laughing.

"I remember your first dance!" she exclaimed. "You were _sooo_ cute!"

Dean wasn't amused and glared at them. "I hate this thing."

"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked.

Dean said nothing as they got in the car and drove away.

* * *

Inside the evidence warehouse at the guard station, Dean, Liz, and Sam showed the security guards their IDs. To Sam's amazement, the guards actually nodded and let them in.

* * *

Once they were inside, they began looking around at the wreckage, and Dean took out an electronic device, putting put headphones in his ears.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

"It's an EMF meter," Dean answered. "Reads electromagnetic frequencies."

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is," Sam said with an annoyed look, "but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?"

Dean turned to face his little brother, smiling proudly. "'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade."

Sam wasn't amused. "Yeah, I can see that."

Dean frowned and Liz sighed, reminding them that they had work to do, and they continued to look around. They reached a piece of wreckage that caused the EMF meter to beep rapidly.

"Check out the emergency door handle," Dean said, pointing to a strange yellow substance that was covering the remains of the handle, and he wiped some of it off with his hand. "What is this stuff?" he wondered.

"One way to find out," said Sam and he scraped some of it off with a knife and put it in a plastic bag. Dean looked at the substance on his fingers, shrugged, and wiped it on Sam's back. "Dude!" Sam exclaimed, slapping Dean's arm and trying to get the stuff off. Dean grinned and Liz rolled her eyes.

* * *

Meanwhile, two actual Homeland Security men approached the security desk and showed the guards their IDs.

"Homeland Security?" the security guard asked, surprised. "What, one team of you guys isn't enough?"

"What are you talkin' about?" one of the agents asked.

"Three of your buddies went inside not five minutes ago," the security guard explained.

The Homeland Security men exchanged a look. A moment later, several security guards were rushing down the hallway towards the warehouse. However, when they entered, Dean, Liz, and Sam were no longer there.

* * *

Outside the warehouse, the three Winchesters were walking away from the warehouse calmly, when suddenly, they heard an alarm blaring, and they began running. Dean took off his suit jacket and threw it over the fence; all three of them hopped the fence, and Dean grabbed his jacket.

"Huh. These monkey suits do come in handy," he remarked, and then he, Liz, and Sam ran back to the car.

* * *

The pilot of Flight 2485, Chuck Lambert, was sitting nervously in a chair, and his co-pilot was sitting next to him.

"Listen, Chuck, it's like gettin' back on a horse, only in this case, a little twin engine," he told Chuck. "Not even a horse, more like a pony. And I'm gonna be right there with you, too. Anytime you feel like you don't want the wheel, I'll take over." And Chuck nodded. "Look, Chuck, we don't have to do this today. I'm not tryin' to rush you."

"No, the… The waiting is worse," Chuck said, determined to get back to flying despite the nerves wracking his system to shreds.

The co-pilot looked out the window at the plane. "Okay, they're fillin' up the tank. Then we go." He got up and walked away. Chuck closed his eyes, trying to calm down. After a moment or so, he became aware of a strange sound, like whispering wind, and then he wasn't aware of anything at all. His eyes turned black and he smiled.

* * *

Sam, Liz, and Dean watched while Jerry looked at the substance under a microscope in a lab at his work.

"Huh," he remarked, looking up. "This stuff is covered in sulfur."

"You're sure?" Sam asked, since that was never a good sign.

"Take a look for yourself," Jerry offered when there was the sound of something being banged loudly and an employee yelling in the hallway. "If you'll excuse me, I have an idiot to fire."

He left the room, shouting at whoever was causing trouble, and Dean looked through the microscope.

"Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue," he commented.

"Demonic possession?" Sam guessed.

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch," Dean said with a slight nod.

"If the guy was possessed, it's very possible," Liz agreed, rubbing at her forehead. "Just what we need, a demon that causes planes to crash."

Dean nodded, not thrilled either. "Yeah, but this goes way beyond floatin' over a bed or barfin' pea soup," he said and Liz rolled her eyes at the references. "I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use 'em to take down an entire airplane?" It didn't make sense.

"You ever heard of somethin' like this before?" Sam asked.

Both Dean and Liz shook their heads. "Never."

* * *

'Chuck' approached his co-pilot. "I'm ready," he said cheerfully. "Let's do this." And they walked to the plane.

* * *

Almost an hour later, they were still in the air.

"How you feelin'?" the co-pilot asked.

"I feel great," said 'Chuck', grinning.

The co-pilot chuckled. "You'll be back flyin' jumbos before you know it."

"I hope so," 'Chuck' agreed. "How long we been up?" he asked suddenly.

The co-pilot checked his watch. "Almost forty minutes."

"Wow," 'Chuck' said, chuckling. "Time really does fly."

The co-pilot shrugged and suddenly, the plane started hurtling towards the ground. "What are you doing?" he yelped at his possessed friend.

'Chuck', now sporting his black-eyed look, knocked him out and the plane continued to dive straight toward the ground.

* * *

Old books, articles and pictures covered the motel room the Winchesters were currently staying in. It reminded Sam of the "good ol' days" of doing this with their dad, only with less arguing because John wasn't there to say that Sam's ideas weren't the right ones even though he _had_ been right on more than one occasion. It was funny, he thought, how much he wanted to find the man when he had an almost stronger instinct to stay away from him, if only to keep more arguments from happening.

Sam was currently using his laptop, and he forced himself to focus on the subject at hand. "So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" he said, scanning the various windows he had open on the screen. "I mean, Christian, Native American, Hindu… You name it."

"Yeah, but none of 'em describe anything like this," Dean stated, flipping through a book.

Liz nodded. "I agree, this is a definitely new one."

"Well, that's not _exactly_ true," Sam said, his forehead furrowed. "See, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked, skeptical, and Sam shrugged. "All right, so, what? We've got a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" he wondered and raised his eyebrows when Dean turned away from him and scratched his head. "What?"

"I don't know, man," Dean sighed, getting up to stretch his legs. "This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons? They don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. You know, I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah," Sam said, looking back at his laptop. "Me, too."

"Same here," Liz sighed.

Just then, Dean's cell phone rang and he answered it. "Hello?"

_`"Dean, it's Jerry."`_

Dean brightened slightly. "Oh, hey, Jerry."

_`"My pilot friend, Chuck Lambert, is dead."`_

Dean was stunned. "Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" he asked, mouthing to Liz and Sam about Chuck.

_`"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago,"`_ Jerry explained. _`"The plane went down."`_

"Where'd this happen?" Dean asked.

_`"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."`_

Dean rolled his eyes at the biblical name. "I'll try to ignore the irony in that."

_`"I'm sorry?"`_ Jerry asked.

"Nothin'. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon," Dean said and he hung up.

"Another crash?" Sam asked, concerned.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

"Where?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled slightly. "Nazareth."

Sam smiled half-heartedly and Liz rolled her eyes at the irony.

* * *

Soon they were driving the Impala toward Nazareth, passing a sign stating the town was three miles away.

* * *

Jerry was looking at more wreckage underneath a microscope while Dean, Liz, and Sam watched.

"Sulfur?" Dean asked, and Jerry nodded. "Well, that's great. All right, so, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"Seems like it," Liz agreed.

"With all due respect to Chuck, um… if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam said slowly and reluctantly.

"What's the bad news?" Dean asked, and had a feeling that he'd wish he hadn't.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight," Sam explained. "And get this so did Flight 2485."

"Forty minutes?" Jerry asked. "What does that mean?"

"It's biblical numerology," Dean said.

"On Noah's Ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death," Liz explained.

Sam nodded. "I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in," he informed them.

"Any survivors?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam answered. "Or not until now, at least not until Flight 2485, for some reason. And the cockpit voice recorder remember what the EVP said?"

Realization dawned on Dean's face. "No survivors," he repeated and Sam nodded. "It's goin' after all the survivors. It's tryin' to finish the job."

"Oh god," Liz gasped, her eyes wide.

* * *

As they drove towards Indianapolis, Sam was on the phone while Liz sat in the backseat and Dean drove.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks," he said politely and he hung up. "All right, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flyin' anytime soon."

"So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker," Dean said, checking the list.

"Right," Sam agreed. "Her sister, Karen, said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8 PM. It's her first night back on the job."

"That sounds like just our luck," Dean remarked.

"And a perfect target for the demon to possess," Liz added.

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man," Sam pointed out. "Even with you behind the wheel."

"Why don't you call Amanda's cell phone again see if we can't head her off at the pass," Dean suggested.

"I've already left her three voice messages," Sam retorted. "She must have turned her cell phone off. God, we're never gonna make it," he groaned.

"Oh, we'll make it," Dean said with a determined expression, and he stepped on the gas and sped down the road.

* * *

Dean, Liz, and Sam rushed into the airport about a minute after they'd parked and looked up at the flight schedule on the various screens.

Sam pointed to the departure screen. "Right there," he said, breathing hard. "They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay," Dean said, looking around. "We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone."

* * *

At another area of the airport, they found a courtesy phone; Dean picked it up and spoke to an operator. "Hi. Gate 13," he said politely, "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on Flight, um…"

"424," Sam whispered.

"Flight 424," said Dean.

_`"Amanda Walker, Amanda Walker. You have a phone call at the white courtesy phone, Gate 13."`_

"Come on…" Dean grumbled, getting impatient as time passed.

_`"This is Amanda Walker."`_

"Miss Walker," Dean said, relieved. "Hi, this is Dr. James Headfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."

"_Karen?"`_

"Nothing serious just a minor car accident," Dean claimed. "But she was injured, so-"

_`"Wait, that's impossible,"`_ Amanda interrupted._ `"I just got off the phone with her."`_

This left Dean in a awkward position. "You what?"

_`"Five minutes ago,"`_ Amanda explained._ `"She's at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?"`_

"Uh, well… there must be some mistake," Dean stammered.

_`"And how would you even know I was here?"`_ Amanda asked and paused for a moment. _`"Is this one of Vince's friends?"`_

"Guilty as charged," Dean admitted, chuckling.

_`"Wow. This is unbelievable."`_

"He's really sorry," Dean said.

_`"Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?"`_

"Yes," Dean said, "but he really needs to see you tonight, so —"

_`"No, I'm sorry. It's too late."`_

"Don't be like that," Dean pleaded. "Come on, the guy's a mess, really… it's pathetic."

_`"Really?"`_ Amanda asked after a moment, sounding both sad and maybe a little hopeful.

"Oh, yeah," Dean agreed.

_`"Look, I've gotta go. Tell him to call me when I land."`_

"No, no, wait, Amanda," Dean protested, but she hung up. "Amanda?" He hung up and groaned, turning to Sam and Liz. "Now what?"

* * *

As Amanda went to board her plane, black mist began to seep out of an air vent, but it quickly disappeared when the flight attendant was surrounded by others.

* * *

Dean. Liz, and Sam paced around the airport.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed. "So close."

"We're screwed," Liz muttered.

"Then it's time for Plan B," Sam declared. "We're getting on that plane."

"Now, just hold on a second," Dean and Liz both quickly protested.

"Dean, Liz, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash," Sam pointed out, surprised by his siblings reactions.

"I know!" Dean said quickly, too quickly.

"We _both_ know that," Liz agreed.

"We're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon, and exorcise it," Sam explained. "Look, I'll get the tickets. You both just go and get whatever you can out of the trunk, whatever will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Both Dean and Liz didn't move. "Are you both okay?" he asked.

"No, not really," Dean said hesitantly while Liz just gulped.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Well, we kind of have this problem with, uh…" both Dean and Liz sighed.

"Flying?" Sam supplied, surprised.

"It's never really been an issue until now," Dean stated while Liz meekly nodded.

Sam couldn't believe it, and this was the first he'd heard of it. "You're joking, right?" he asked.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Dean demanded, panicking. "Why do you think we drive everywhere, Sam?"

"It should be obvious," Liz added, surprised that Sam hadn't noticed.

Sam sighed. "All right. Uh, I'll go."

Dean and Liz both stared at him, surprised. "What?"

"I'll do this one on my own," Sam offered.

"What are you, nuts?" Dean asked, shocked. "You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash."

"Look, Dean, Liz, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself," Sam stated. "I'm not seeing a third option here."

"Come on! Really?" both Dean and Liz protested, but then they sighed, defeated. "Man."

* * *

A/N: Poor Dean and Liz, they're scared of flying and now they have to go on a plane. R&R everyone!


	3. Chapter 3: Fear of Flying

Supernatural: Phantom Traveler

A/N: I know that it's been a while, folks, but I've been busy with both school and work lately.

Like my little sister, Yami Faeire, My internet connection can also be flakey at times, but also I'd _love_ to get some reviews about how I'm doing, too.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: FEAR OF FLYING**

Sam couldn't tell who was more terrified: Dean was clutching the armrests with both hands, while Liz was almost clutching at _him_. Both were wide-eyed and perspiring slightly as the plane's pilot waited for the go-ahead so he could maneuver the plane onto the strip and take off.

"Just try to relax," Sam finally suggested.

"Just try to shut up," Dean hissed through clenched teeth, and Sam laughed, bemused by the way they were acting. As the plane started down the runway, both Dean and Liz tightened their seatbelts and leaned their heads against the back of their seats. Liz closed her eyes tightly for one moment only to snap them open again.

"That's even worse," she mumbled. "Don't close your eyes, seriously." Sam bit his lip, trying to keep his laughter from bubbling out again. It wasn't like he wasn't scared of anything himself, so if he wanted to avoid retaliation in the form of clown jokes and spontaneous trips to McDonald's, then he was better off staying quiet.

* * *

Liz had started clutching a silver cross in one hand about the moment the plane started taking off, and she hadn't let it go since. Meanwhile, Dean was humming, trying to relax, and Sam leaned in a little to hear what he was humming.

"Are you humming Metallica?" he asked, surprised.

"It calms me down," Dean snapped.

"Look, guys, I get that you're both nervous, all right?" Sam assured his siblings. "But you both have _got_ to stay focused."

"Okay," Dean agreed and Liz nodded, tightening her grip on her necklace.

"I mean, we've got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism," Sam whispered.

"Yeah, on a crowded plane, that's gonna be easy," Dean said sarcastically.

"Yeah, it'll be _real_ fun," Liz grumbled.

"Just take it one step at a time, all right?" Sam suggested. "Now, who is it possessing?"

"Well, it's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know," Dean explained, "a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash," Sam remarked. "If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

Dean nodded. "Mm-hmm." And a flight attendant passed them. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?" he asked.

"No, I'm not," said the flight attendant.

"Oh, my mistake," Dean said sheepishly.

The flight attendant gave him a bemused smile. "Mm-hmm." And she walked away. Embarrassed, Dean turned and saw Amanda at the back of the plane, near the restrooms. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there," he hissed to Sam. "So… I'll go talk to her and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.

"There's ways to test that," Dean said, reached into his bag and pulled out a battered plastic bottle of water. "I brought holy water." And Sam took the bottle from him.

"No, I think we can go more subtle," Sam protested. "If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh. Nice," Dean said sarcastically, and he moved to get up.

"Hey," Sam said, and Dean stopped moving.

"What?" he asked.

"Say it in Latin," Sam told him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I know." And he started walking away.

"Hey!" Sam hissed.

Dean turned around and glared. "What?"

"In Latin, it's 'Cristo'," Sam said.

"Dude, I know, I'm not an idiot!" Dean growled, and he walked away.

"Sam, leave Dean alone," Liz snapped when it looked like he was about to call Dean back again. "This isn't helping my own nerves," she added, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to stay calm.

* * *

At the back of the plane, Amanda was setting up glasses on a cart, and Dean walked over to talk to her.

"Hi," he said pleasantly.

"Hi. Can I help you with something?" Amanda asked.

"Oh, no. I'm just a bit of an uneasy flier," Dean admitted since it was true. "It makes me feel better to walk around a little bit."

Amanda smiled. "Well, it happens to the best of us."

"Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess flying comes easy to you," Dean joked, and she laughed.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," she said.

"Really? You're a nervous flier?" Dean asked, fringing surprise.

Amanda shrugged. "Yeah, maybe little bit."

"How is it that, being a stewardess, you're scared to fly?" Dean asked, impressed.

"Kind of a long story," Amanda said.

Dean nodded. "Right. Sorry for asking."

"It's okay," Amanda assured him.

"You ever consider other employment?" Dean asked suddenly.

"No. Look, everybody's scared of something," said Amanda. "I just, uh… I'm not gonna let it hold me back."

Dean was _very_ impressed now. "Huh."

Amanda nodded. "So…" She trailed off and went back to stacking cups.

"Cristo," Dean muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Amanda asked, her eyes perfectly normal, and Dean laughed nervously.

"Cristo?" he asked awkwardly.

Amanda was confused and her eyes were still normal. "I- I didn't — what?"

"Nothing. Never mind," Dean said, waving it off, and went back to his seat, leaving Amanda confused.

"Okay."

* * *

Dean returned to the front of the plane and sat down next to Liz and Sam. "All right, well, she's got to be the most well adjusted person on the planet," he muttered.

"You said 'Cristo'?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"And?" Sam pressed.

"There's no demon in her," Dean answered. "There's no demon getting _in_ her."

Sam sighed, disappointed. "So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone… anywhere."

Just then, the plane began to rumble and shake. "Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean protested and Liz whimpered.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence," Sam reassured them.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay?" Dean hissed angrily so that no one could hear him. "So quit treatin' me like I'm friggin' four!"

"Not helping, Dean," Liz moaned.

"You need to calm down," Sam insisted. "And you're scaring Liz."

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't!" Dean snapped.

"Dean!" Liz hissed.

Sam sighed and kept talking calmly. "Yes, you can."

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping!" Dean protested.

"Listen, if you or Liz are going to panic, you both are wide open to demonic possession," Sam pointed out, "so you both need to calm yourselves down _right now_." Dean and Liz paused before letting out a long breath each. "Good." He then opened their father's journal. "Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work, the ritual Romano."

"What do we have to do?" Dean asked.

"It's two parts," Sam explained. "The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"More powerful?" Dean and Liz both asked, worried again.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"How?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore," Sam admitted. "It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"Oh, and why is that a good thing?" Dean hissed.

"Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell," Sam said with a small shrug.

"Okay, now that makes sense," said Liz, feeling a bit better.

Dean nodded. "First thing's first, we've gotta find it."

* * *

A few minutes later, Dean was walking up and down the aisles of the plane with the EMF meter in his hand; he walked by each passenger as they looked at him curiously. Nobody seemed to be possessed. Suddenly, both Liz and Sam came up behind him and Sam slapped him on the back in a good old brotherly fashion.

Dean jumped and glared at them. "Oh! Don't do that!" he hissed.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

"No, nothin'," Dean answered. "How much time we got?"

Sam checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes," he answered. "Maybe we missed somebody."

"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane," Dean said hopefully and Liz rolled her eyes.

"You really believe that?" Sam asked, skeptical.

Dean nodded. "Well, I will if you will."

Sam gave him a knowing look, and suddenly, the EMF meter began to beep frantically. The co-pilot of the plane came out of the restroom and smiled at them; Sam noticed how both Dean and Liz were staring at the co-pilot intently.

"What? What is it?"

"Cristo," Dean said to the co-pilot, and before going back into the cockpit, the co-pilot turned to them. His eyes were completely black, and Dean, Liz, and Sam all stared in awe as the co-pilot turned away from them.

"Okay, we've found the demon."

"Now what?" Liz asked.

"We…" Dean swallowed. "We tell Amanda, get her to help us get to him. C'mon."

The three Winchesters started to head towards the back of the plane, which was closed off by a curtain.

"She's not gonna believe this," Sam protested.

"Twelve minutes, dude," Dean reminded him, and they entered the curtained part of the plane, where Amanda was standing.

"Oh, hi," Amanda said, smiling. "Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about," Dean said while Sam closed the curtain.

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?" Amanda asked, uncertain.

Dean sighed, exchanging a look with Liz. "All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole 'The truth is out there' speech right now."

"We know you were on Flight 2485," Sam said.

"Who are you guys?" Amanda asked, suspicious.

"We've spoken to some of the other survivors," Sam explained. "We know something brought down that plane, and it wasn't mechanical failure."

"And we need your help because we need to stop it from happening again, here, now," Liz added.

Amanda became nervous and had the look of a frightened skeptic. "I- I'm sorry, I'm very busy." And she tried to leave, but Dean stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" he said reassuringly. "But listen to me, the pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert? He's dead."

"Wait, what? Chuck is dead?" Amanda was clearly shocked by the news.

"He died in a plane crash," Dean explained. "Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485," Sam said quickly. "Now, maybe you sensed it, and maybe you didn't, but there's something wrong with this flight, too."

Dean nodded. "Amanda, you have to believe us," he requested and they watched her expectantly.

Amanda sighed, and was scared of what she was about to tell them. "On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes."

Sam nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what we're talking about."

"But I don't understand. What are you asking me to do?" Amanda asked.

"Get the co-pilot," Dean requested. "We need you to bring him back here."

"And the sooner the better," Liz added.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?" Amanda asked, confused.

"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him, okay?" Dean begged.

Amanda became frustrated. "But how am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the co-pilot?" she wondered.

"Whatever it takes," said Sam. "Do _whatever_ it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit."

"Do you know that I could lose my job if —" Amanda began to protest.

"You're gonna lose a lot more than that if you don't help us out," Dean interrupted.

After a moment, Amanda sighed. "Okay." And she left the area. Dean, Liz, and Sam watched through the curtain as she knocked on the door of the cockpit. The co-pilot came out, and after a few moments of talking, he and Amanda began walking towards the back of the plane. Dean took out the holy water and Sam pulled out their father's journal in preparation. As soon as the co-pilot entered the area, Dean and Liz both punched him and threw him down on the floor, and Dean covered the co-pilot's mouth with a piece of duct tape.

"What are you doing?" Amanda asked, shocked. "You said you were just gonna talk to him!"

Dean nodded. "We _are_ gonna talk to him," he said lightly.

"Just… not in the way you probably expected," Liz amended.

The co-pilot thrashed wildly as Sam covered him in holy water, and steam began to rise from his clothing and skin as though the water had burned the man, only there were no marks on his skin. Sam knew that it was hurting the demon inside, though.

"Oh, my God, what's wrong with him?" Amanda asked, shocked.

"We need you calm," Sam instructed. "We need you outside the curtain. Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?" When she didn't move or say anything, Sam moved closer. "Amanda?"

"Okay. Okay," Amanda said, panicking, and she left the area and stood outside the curtain.

"Hurry up, Sam," Dean grunted as the co-pilot tried to throw both him and Liz off. "I don't know how much longer we can hold him."

"Hurry!" Liz hissed, shoving the cross into the co-pilot's face and burning the skin on his cheek.

Sam began speaking in Latin, and the co-pilot continued to wrestle with Dean and Liz. Suddenly, the demon became stronger; he knocked the bottle of water out of Sam's hands and threw all three Winchesters against the walls. Sam grabbed the journal and continued reading. The co-pilot ripped the duct tape off his mouth and grabbed Sam's shirt.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend!" the demon hissed and Sam stuttered into silence, shocked. The journal slipped from his numb fingers and clattered to the floor. "She must have _died_ screaming! Even now, she's burning!"

"No," Sam whispered.

Dean and Liz both tried to pull the possessed man away from their little brother and back to the ground, but Sam didn't move. "Sam!" Dean shouted.

"Sam, focus!" Liz cried, struggling to pull the man off Sam.

Pulling himself together, Sam pushed the man away, picked up the journal and continued to speak in Latin. A moment later, he put the journal down and helped Dean and Liz keep the co-pilot on the floor. "I got him!" he shouted.

The co-pilot began screaming, kicked the journal into the aisle of the plane, and he opened his mouth and the demon left his body in a haze of black mist, which seeped into the air vent; the co-pilot laid on the floor, motionless. He had completely passed out.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked, looking around.

"It's in the plane," Dean answered. "Hurry up, we've got to finish it."

Sam got up to retrieve the journal from the front of the plane when, suddenly, the plane began to go into a dive. Dean and Liz were thrown against a wall, screaming, and the passengers began panicking. In the midst of all the chaos, Sam was able to reach the journal.

"Got it!" he shouted; kneeling in the middle of the aisle, he opened the journal to the exorcism and began screaming in Latin. The plane continued to dive, and both Dean and Liz tried to move but they were once again thrown up against a wall. Liz grabbed Dean's arm tightly and buried her face against his jacket, silently begging Sam to finish the exorcism before it was too late.

Papers and other objects were flying everywhere as Sam finished the final words of the exorcism, and the demon was forced to leave the plane, this time not a mist, but a burbling black smoke that seemed to be writhing in pain. Sam stared out the nearest window, watching as the smoke was consumed from the inside out by dark flames and crackling streaks of electricity before it was gone.

The plane suddenly stopped crashing, and everyone began to calm down as the plane traveled smoothly through the air again. Sam stood up, breathing heavily, and both Dean and Liz came out from behind the curtain and they stared over at Sam. They had saved the plane and its passengers, but Sam looked away from his siblings and shut his eyes tightly, thoughts consumed by the demon's words to him. _Jess_…

* * *

A/N: Talk about a wild ride. R&R everyone!


	4. Chapter 4: A Surprise Message

Supernatural: Phantom Traveler

A/N: Happy President's Day! Now, just so you all know, it will be a while before I update again unless I get some reviews on my fanfics soon; in other words, it'll probably be a month before I update again, also pending on school and work, too.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: A SURPRISE MESSAGE**

Police officers and paramedics were talking to several passengers as they came off the plane, and the co-pilot of the plane was in a wheelchair, talking to a cop.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" the police officer asked.

"I don't know," the co-pilot admitted. "I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don't even remember gettin' on the plane."

* * *

Amanda was also talking to an FBI agent; she noticed Dean, Liz, and Sam were standing nearby and mouthed, "Thank you." The three siblings nodded.

"Let's get out of here," Dean said to Sam, who was silent as they began walking. "You okay?" he asked, and Sam stopped.

"What is it, Sam?" Liz asked, concerned.

"Dean, Liz… it knew about Jessica," Sam said softly.

Dean sighed. "Sam, these things, they read minds," he pointed out. "They lie, all right? That's all it was."

Sam was unconvinced. "Yeah," he said anyway.

"Come on," Dean said, and both he and Liz left, Sam following at a slightly slower pace.

* * *

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do," Jerry said, a grateful expression on his face as he spoke with the three Winchesters. "A lot of people could have been killed." And he shook their hands. "Your dad's gonna be real proud," he added.

Sam smiled. "We'll see you around, Jerry."

Jerry turned and began walking back to the building where he worked.

"You know, Jerry?" Dean asked, recalling something.

Jerry turned back to look at them. "Yeah?"

"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cell phone number, anyway?" It had been bugging him for a while now. "I've only had it for, like, six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry answered.

"What?" Sam asked, surprised.

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked, exchanging a surprising look with Liz.

"Well, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number, and his voice message said to give you a call," Jerry asked, and they nodded. "Thanks again, guys."

He walked away, and Dean, Liz, and Sam exchanged a look.

* * *

Later, Dean, Liz, and Sam were sitting on the trunk of the Impala. Dean was dialing John's number.

"This doesn't make any sense, man," Sam complained. "I've called Dad's number, like, fifty times. It's been out of service."

Not saying anything, Dean, Liz, and Sam all went silent when an actual voice message began on the phone.

_`"This is John Winchester,"`_ said John's voice. _`"I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235, or my daughter Elizabeth at 866-407-3425. They can help."` _

Stunned, Dean flipped his phone shut, ending the call. He looked over at Liz, who looked just as shocked as he felt, and then he watched as Sam, who looked close to tears, got into the car without a word. Dean and Liz both followed a moment later; Dean started up the Impala and drove out on the road.

* * *

A/N: Another one done. R&R everyone!


End file.
